


One Night in LA

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Clan Denial, Escapadecon 25th Anniversary Zine, M/M, One Night Stands, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 25th Anniversary Zine for Escapadecon. Problems with flights strands Richie at a hotel familiar to Escapadecon attendees, but he doesn't spend the night alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night in LA

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to Dail and Charlotte Hill for their editing help on this fic! Also thanks to nakedbee, who made a lovely illustration (a sword-wielding penguin!) for this fic - check it out and the other stories by downloading a copy of [the full zine.](http://escapadecon.net/zine)

Tired from his travels, Richie slid into the high-backed bar stool with relief. He kept his leather jacket unzipped but didn’t take it off. Staying overnight at a hotel near the Los Angeles airport hadn’t been in his plans, but he’d gambled on a cheap ticket and lost the travel lottery. Between the post-Christmas rush and weather, he estimated he’d have been better off springing for a first-class, direct flight to Seacouver instead. Mac had wanted to pay for it, but Richie had his pride; he wanted to prove to himself that he didn’t need the older immortal’s money.

 _So much for that_ , Richie thought with a sigh.

Still, Richie was looking forward to being home again after spending most of the last two decades trying to figure out where he belonged and what he wanted to do with his life beyond ‘not follow too closely in Mac’s footsteps.’ Now older and wiser, Richie thought he had a good handle on what made him happy and kept him grounded. Mac’s offer to help him with his new gym felt like déjà vu, but Richie knew it was different for both of them this time. It had taken them a lot of time, long phone calls, a few interventions from mutual friends, a fair number of late-night drinks, and more than a few arguments to rebuild the friendship that had suffered from the fallout of a demon possessing Mac, making Mac almost kill Richie a third time.

Aware that Mac would be checking his flight’s status, Richie pulled out his phone from inside his jacket pocket and texted Mac.

 _Flight delayed due to mechanical failure; stuck in LA for the night,_ he wrote. _Don’t wait up; I’ll take a taxi over to your new place._

He was unsurprised when his phone rang. Mac didn’t trust text messages, preferring voice or video. “You okay?” Mac asked when Richie answered.

“Tired,” Richie said. “Remind me not to book tickets on cheapassflights.com again.”

Mac laughed. “I wanted to buy your ticket,” he reminded him.

“Yeah, well, next time maybe I’ll take you up on it. If everything goes well, I’ll see you about mid-morning, Mac. ”

“Forget about the taxi,” Mac said. “Just send me your flight number and airline when you get on board.”

“Will do, Mac,” Richie promised, and disconnected the line as the bartender approached him.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked. “We have a few featured specials and the full dinner menu is available as well.”

Richie frowned. The bartender looked a heck of a lot like someone he knew. He’d used the ‘everyone had a double somewhere’ line enough himself, but he honestly hadn’t expected to run into one here. He scanned the selection of liquors on the back bar, then the card the bartender handed him, noting that the card also indicated what beers were on tap. His eyebrows rose as he saw one of his favorites and he looked up. “Really? You stock Men’s Room Red?”

When the bartender nodded, he smiled and tilted his head just so, Richie became even more convinced he was looking at the perfect doppelgänger, if not the real thing. “I’ll take the burger and fries and a pint of the Men’s Room Red.”

The bartender smiled. “Coming right up,” he promised.

Richie nodded acknowledgement, then waited until the bartender had delivered his beer before turning to survey the room, aware he was seeing it with jaded eyes. Nothing could compare to Amanda’s club in Paris, Sanctuary; he could’ve kept on working there forever, no questions asked, but after a decade of being one of the gastropub’s bartenders, he wanted to be home, and home was still Seacouver, no matter that he’d spent more time away from it than he’d lived there.

“Good to see that I’m not the only one here,” a male voice greeted, and Richie turned to see the newcomer. He grinned at the man who’d been in the seat next to him on the flight from Paris. Richie had learned to appreciate other men; he very much appreciated this one.

“Good to see you again,” Richie said. Broad chested and full-framed, the man had an oval face, high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, hazel eyes, a straight nose, full lips, and dimples when he smiled.

“Jason Valencia,” the man finally introduced himself, extending his hand. “Since you actually seemed to enjoy talking about buildings and bridges for half the flight?”

Richie grinned wider. “Richie Ryan,” he said, shaking hands before Jason sat down. He hadn’t minded the discussion about engineering design, mostly because Jason’s hair was wavy and dark brown, artfully streaked with shades of blond, the color echoing his natural bronze skin. His mustache and beard were neatly trimmed, outlining the angle of his jaw. He was still dressed in the same clothes he’d worn on the plane: a navy pinstriped dress shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, but he’d ditched his carry-on. “You said you’re an architect?”

“Naval architect, actually. Did civil first, got bored and decided I liked boats and things that float on the water better. What do you do?”

“Between jobs right now,” Richie said honestly. “But I usually teach martial arts and tend bar.”

The bartender chose then to approach. “Your food should be up shortly,” he told Richie. “What can I get for you, sir?” he asked Jason.

“What’s the Christmas ale I see you have on tap?”

“It’s a winter warmer; this one’s an English ale with ginger, honey, and cinnamon. Pretty easy drinking, goes good with the tacos.”

“Sold,” Jason said. “I’ll take both the ale and the tacos.” Jason watched the bartender walk away.

“More interested in him than in me?” Richie asked. He wouldn’t be offended if the answer was yes. Surprised, maybe.

But Jason just smiled. “No, it’s not that. He just… doesn’t he look like Jeremy Renner?”

“Oh, the, uh — the guy with the arrows?”

Jason nodded. Richie relaxed. _That_ was why he’d recognized the guy.

As he finished speaking, a server delivered Richie’s dinner. “Did you want to take this over to a table?” Richie asked, seeing a two-top open just to his left.

“Yeah, let’s,” Jason agreed. “We’re going over here,” he told the bartender.

“Not a problem,” the lookalike acknowledged.

Richie held no pretenses which way the evening was going to go. He was surprised by how much he wanted it — maybe because he’d been around faces and people he knew, for so many years in a row now, or maybe just because Jason looked nothing at all like Richie’s last heartache. Richie had been on the verge of telling Charlie why he carried a sword; instead, their relationship had ended over Charlie’s insecurity.

Richie wasn’t sure if Mac knew he’d sworn off women and had been dating men; it hadn’t ever come up in their discussions. Until he got his own place, Richie was going to be living with Mac, and it was just easier not to try to have a lover who’d undoubtedly be subject to Mac’s scrunity. Being with Jason tonight would have to be enough to tide Richie over for the near future, someone to help him past the heartbreak he felt every time he thought of Charlie.

“You look a million miles away,” Jason noted, drawing Richie out of his thoughts. “I’m not boring you, am I?”

“No,” Richie hastened to assure him. “Just…been a very long day.”

Jason smiled at that. “Agreed. So where are you headed to from here?”

“Washington state,” Richie hedged. “You?”

“Oh, where in Washington? I’m headed back to Spokane,” Jason said. “I’m half tempted to just rent a car and drive up there from here, but I have no idea which passes are open and which are closed. It’s still winter out there. Easier to fly, you know?”

Richie nodded. “Yeah, I’m headed back to Seacouver. I rode up from California once in December; that was a learning experience.”

Jason laughed. “I can imagine. So what do you ride?”

“I have an old BMW dual sport a friend of mine gifted me with some years ago,” Richie told him. “Do you ride?”

“Ah, no, I’m terrified of those things,” Jason admitted with a laugh. “I got chased by a dog, fell off my bicycle, and broke my arm when I was a kid. Never got back on two wheels again.”

“That’s too bad,” Richie told him. “But I can understand; it’s not for everyone.”

“I prefer a much different kind of riding these days,” Jason murmured, then ducked his head, as if he’d admitted something aloud that he’d just thought in his head.

Richie bit back the smile the sudden shyness produced. “So do I sometimes, with the right person,” he told Jason, looking at him directly.

Jason seemed to relax somewhat at that, and his flirting was sweet, as if he didn’t want to push Richie too hard. They turned their attention to the TV in the bar, which was tuned to ESPN. They talked sports while they ate, flirting all the while. After splitting the meal, Richie followed Jason to his room.

“You don’t have any second thoughts about this?” Jason asked hesitantly once the door was shut. “I mean, if you were just flirting to be friendly...” He let the sentence trail off awkwardly, as if this wasn’t his first experience with someone who might have misinterpreted his cues, or maybe that he thought Richie was that much younger and inexperienced.

Suspecting the latter, Richie turned to examine him, staring at the smooth skin and barely-there lines by his eyes and across his forehead. This guy couldn’t be more than thirty-two, but Richie had been twenty-three for years, now. He had the advantage. But he liked that this guy thought to ask questions like that. Richie wished suddenly that he had more than one night to show this man what he knew.

“Only if you don’t believe in safe sex and good lube,” Richie countered, stepping into Jason’s personal space. As an immortal, Richie wasn’t susceptible to disease, but he knew Jason didn’t know that, and it was just easier not to open that can of worms.

Jason cracked a smile at that. “Be an idiot if I didn’t,” he replied, and stepped back to rummage in the carry-on suitcase he’d propped on the collapsible luggage rack. He showed Richie the bottle of lube and box of condoms his search produced before setting them on the nightstand. Richie appreciated that the lube was a higher-quality one, indicating that Jason had definite preferences and probably shopped at a sex supplies shop. He hoped that meant that they’d get more than one round, but Richie was willing to take what he could get.

“Works for me,” Richie said, and moved in to kiss Jason.

Jason pulled back, dodging the kiss. “If you fuck me well enough, I’ll kiss you for it, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a challenge,” he murmured as he bit back his disappointment, but he knew the rules of this game. Kisses and foreplay were for committed relationships, not one night stands. For a night’s pleasure, Richie was willing to compromise. Love wasn’t always worth the extra effort, even without disclosing immortality. He preferred making connections to people, though, even one-night stands; it grounded him, made him believe that he was more than just a sword-wielding heir apparent to Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Tonight, Jason wanted him for who he appeared to be, not for the heads he’d taken, or for his sheer existence in the Game. Tonight, Richie wanted to feel like he was simply a guy needing to get laid, just as Jason was. Still, the weight of immortality felt heavy on his shoulders, and maybe it was a minor thing, but Richie wanted to be someone Jason _remembered_.

Richie started to undress as the other man did the same. Jason climbed onto the bed on hands and knees. Richie took a moment to admire the scene before him, letting himself be anchored in the now, in this smart, sweet, incredibly sexy man offering himself up so freely, and he gave in to the urge to stroke Jason’s spine. At the touch, Jason shivered in anticipation.

Richie smiled. _Not as indifferent as you pretend to be_ , he thought, and decided to up the ante a little.

Richie prided himself on being a good lover, regardless of whether he was _in love_ with his lover or not. As he stroked himself to readiness, Richie took the time to prep Jason well, paying attention to the way Jason reacted.

“Not a virgin,” Jason informed him when he had two fingers inserted.

“Maybe not, but I’m not going to hurt you if I can help it,” Richie told him. His cock was wider than average, which made preparation critical. He continued until Jason grew impatient and demanded he just fuck him already. Biting back a smug smile at that, Richie slid his cock into Jason’s ass. Jason met his thrusts halfway, and Richie smiled when Jason’s grunts turned into whimpers of pleasure. Reaching around Jason’s hip, Richie found Jason’s cock and began to stroke it in time to his thrusts.

“Oh, geez, Richie, yeah, like that,” Jason said breathlessly, and leaned up slightly so Richie had more room to manuever. From the way Jason was reacting, Richie was certain he was no longer just some anonymous hookup, but someone with a name. He leaned in, pressing his weight against Jason’s back, feeling heat and sweat and pleasure build between them. Jason’s continued effort to match his rhythm ratcheted the desire burning through Richie. Even as he continued his movements, Richie breathed carefully, afraid this would end too soon.

“You like?” Richie asked, as if it wasn’t obvious, when he thought they were both getting close.

Jason nodded. “Yeah, Richie, gonna, ah, can’t hold it,” he panted breathlessly.

“Then come,” Richie said, and felt Jason shudder, shaking with the force of his climax. Richie pumped him through it, until Jason batted his hand away.

Satisfied by Jason’s reactions and turned on by the knowledge he’d given Jason such a thrill, Richie let go of his control and came hard.

For a long moment, Richie didn’t dare move, not sure if he could hold himself upright. He took a deep breath, then, mindful of the condom, eased back and staggered into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he found Jason had flipped over to lie on his back.

“Hey,” Richie said, easing down onto the bed. “You okay?”

Jason surged up and kissed him before flopping back onto the mattress. “Ask me again when I’ve found my brain.”

“You, uh, want me to stay?”

Jason closed his eyes, and Richie took that for his answer. He’d won Jason’s challenge and gotten a kiss, but it looked like that was it for the night. Burying the sudden surge of disappointment, Richie dressed quickly. His hand was on the doorknob when Jason asked, “Is it too late to say yes? Because if that’s how you fuck, I’ve been missing out.”

Richie hid a smile and turned back around. It wasn’t love, but even love had become ephemeral to him. Too much time thinking, Mac might say, but if he was going to live for generations, then one night or one decade might carry the same kind of importance. It didn’t have to be love. If all they both had was a memory to take with them, Richie was determined that it would be a good one. Tonight, he could forget about the Game; tomorrow would be here soon enough.

Besides, Spokane wasn’t _that_ far from Seacouver….

The End


End file.
